Again, sorry for the shortness, although many of you said that you liked the length of the last few chapters I deemed "too short."
Announcement: Survival now has its very own TV Tropes Page! TV Tropes is a website that catalogues fiction devices used in the media, which includes fanfiction. The link to Survival's page can be found on my profile, under "Story Extras".
Announcement #2: A forum for discussing Survival is in the creation. Look out for that—I'll give you the name when it's up and running.
Fun Fact of the Chapter: Veras Valdez was one of the last tributes submitted, if not the last. I honestly can't remember...
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Veras Valdez, District Five
Due to the nature of its industry, or perhaps its remote location, District Five is known for generating its own atmosphere. Cold. Clinical. Intellectual. Quiet. Calculating. Slightly snobbish, according to some.
This is where a person like me fits right in. Cold, clinical, calculating Veras Valdez. Quietly proud, passive-aggressive, excessively cold to the point of almost being antisocial. Logical and level-headed; ready to face the world with knowledge alone.
I know that there are many faults in that mindset, and I'm trying the best I can to eradicate them from my personality, even though I know it's hopeless. Personalities don't change, not when they're as deeply-set as mine, and I shouldn't focus on things I can't do. I generally like to avoid fights that I can't win. Besides, I like my brain. It's a good brain, faults or no.
I turn my attention back to the stage, where the District Five mayor has just finished up his speeches on the history of Panem—obviously at least partially fabricated—and is now introducing the escort, Thesaura Dictionarian. I inwardly groan.
"Salutations, Region Quintessential!"
Ah, no. You may have looked up near-synonyms of "Hello, District Five!", but as a whole, that technique does not make you sound intelligent. Especially not in a district full of scientists, mathematicians, and generally smart people who can see through that ruse a mile away.
"It is the hour for us to decide whom is chosen to traverse to the Capitol!"
I wonder if she changed her name specifically to thank the two books that she seems to be abusing as Foreign Language Translation Guides.
Thesaura sticks her arm in, stops to straighten her over-the-top "nerd" glasses that have become the symbol for Five in the Capitol, and draws out a slip.
"Our fortunate pistillate tribute this twelvemonth is... Teagan Stratus!"
As usual, the vocabulary makes me cringe, but before I can analyze it further a girl comes running out of the crowd a few yards away from me. The Peacekeepers all brace themselves to drag her back up to the stage, but to my surprise she's actually running towards it. She sprints up the stairs and glares at the escort for a few moments. "Teagan Stratus, everyone!"
Teagan Stratus looks fairly normal. She's fifteen years old, like me, with chin-length brown hair, dark blue eyes, and an olive complexion. But, judging by her sprint to the stage, she's either an easily-frightened girl with a strong impulsive streak and strange reflexes or some kind of sociopath who can't wait to get to the Games. They're equally likely.
Some girl in the 17-year-olds section, presumably related to Teagan, lets out a scream and crumples to the ground. While some people tend to her, Thesaura pulls the boy's name out of the glass jar.
"Veras Valdez!"
Wait a minute... no, it can't be. The Hunger Games only happen to other people, right? I can't possibly be—I mean, I don't have any tesserae! There were four slips in there with my name in them, out of the whole district! Granted, it's a relatively small district, but...
And now I'm going to die!
Okay, calm down. You can't think like that. Grow up. You will be able to get out of the Games, as long as you stay rational. Now head up there onto the stage. Act confident.
I shake hands with Teagan, who seems to be whispering something to herself—probably a coping mechanism—and we're marched off to the Justice Building for our goodbyes. I think about the task at hand.
With this brain, I, as the District Five male tribute, must survive the Hunger Games. No small feat, in an arena where logic is designed to go against you and most decisions are made off of primitive instincts. But I can work with it. As long as I keep my head and don't fall into any obvious traps.
I'll do anything I have to in order to survive. Even if it means closing off any human emotions like pity or anything, I will be strong and survive. Because I know how the Games work. You don't get to stay whole if you come out of there. Your emotions fall to pieces, or you die trying.
People don't win the Hunger Games. They just survive. And that's what I'll do.
My parents and my friend Sid come in to visit me. After all the pointless weeping is done with, I tell them about my plans. They seem to agree with me, if looking a little forlorn. But it's preferable to me dying.
When they let us out of the Justice Building, my district partner Teagan runs to the train and goes to hide in one of the cabinets. None of us disturb her—she must be frightened out of her wits.
She's scared. And so am I. The difference between us is that I'm not going to let it affect anything.
I am Veras Valdez of District Five. I am cold, clinical, calculating, logical, ruthless. And cunning will come out on top.
